How to Live as an Immortal Chapter 012

It's Your Turn to Die Once

*

Swoosh.

I walk through the suddenly pouring rain. Any other time, I'd go into a Hyperloop station and wait for it to stop, but I wasn't in the mood.

All I could muster was a dazed thought that the attitude would surely evolve.

That's how shocking Thomas's death was to me. I knew I'd part ways with him someday. But not like this, at least.

Of course, I had grown accustomed to farewells. I'd changed my identity well over 10 times, after all.

A body that had witnessed countless endings. I no longer wailed or despaired anew.

It was a life I never wished for, but it was mine nonetheless.

Still, the clear line between my purely sorrowful self and my exhausted, resigned self was clearly visible—

'How tiresome.'

Perhaps due to years of conditioning, my cold reason remained unmoved. Even at this moment, it ceaselessly analyzed the cause and effect of events, pondering only how to reach the end of revenge.

It was lamentable whether this could even be called sincerity.

I had been aware of this all along.

Moving bases every 20 years was also to avoid facing such tragedies.

The people I love,

The people I like,

The people I want to remember,

It was quite painful to see them vanish so futilely.

So I wandered without putting a period. To be able to reminisce only about the times that shone brightly forever. To be able to imagine that they had met a peaceful rest.

This was an expression of weakness and undeniable evidence of deficiency.

But now I had to set it aside for a moment.

It's not too late to indulge in melancholy later.

Tap.

As I stopped in my tracks, a neon sign came clearly into view.

Club Davenue.

The answer must be there.

*

Mark, greeting me as I drooped like a rain-soaked mouse, put a cigar in his mouth.

"You look unsatisfied. I guess even you couldn't find Yang Hu."

Though his tone seemed concerned, I could detect a subtle sense of discomfort in it.

"Come to think of it, it was strange."

Mark, who had been silent for a year, suddenly appeared and proposed a job.

Moreover, saying it's hard to distinguish because he's Asian was a clumsy excuse at best.

Besides, Mark was an executive in the organization that divided this street. He wasn't in a position to set an example personally.

For someone so authoritative and conservative to approach me willingly.

It wouldn't happen even on a whim.

People don't change easily.

Only situations change.

The conclusion drawn was singular.

"No wonder you were rambling on with excuses so unlike you. You had figured out my identity."

The decisive factor was when he subtly hinted that New Delvier had noticed something about Thomas.

It wasn't a favor; he told me on purpose.

To observe how I would react.

He probably wasn't sure until I visited this place.

"I felt it a year ago too, but your intuition is top-notch."

Mark laughed lowly, revealing his true intentions without hiding them. It was just as I said.

In fact, he saw the odds as fifty-fifty. That's why he didn't attack rashly.

But everything became certain when I returned.

"So, you were Yang Hu."

As the saying goes, 'An awl in a bag will poke through.' There was no way to hide it.

Since he was a rookie, Mark had seen me as a subject of research. I didn't age despite the passing years. It was a strange phenomenon that couldn't be explained by constitution or management.

It was only natural to take an interest.

At first, it was pure curiosity.

Then he discovered a few connections.

The timing of my appearance strangely coincided with Yang Hu's disappearance. And the old man I was close to was the protagonist of the Millennium Code Gate.

The latter was something he found out by chance during his investigation.

But when coincidences pile up, they become inevitable.

My eyes flashed as I grasped the situation.

"So you were the one who passed information about the Master to New Delvier."

"I needed certainty."

"Why go this far?"

"It's an achievement, for becoming the next boss. If I subdue you here, my position will be even more secure."

"So that's why you came out yourself instead of informing New Delvier."

No doubt he intended to capture me moderately and use me for negotiations.

"It's too petty for me to listen to."

As I rose from my seat, Mark's subordinates surrounded me. The cramped space was filled with nothing but distrust towards each other.

"Who commissioned this?"

"I told you, New Delvier."

"I mean who specifically from New Delvier. If you're honest, I'll make it painless."

Everyone burst into laughter at the utterly arrogant declaration. It was clear to anyone that Shin was at a disadvantage. Moreover, Mark and his followers were known elites even within the Guerrilla Family.

Shin pulled out a folding knife and muttered quietly.

"Do my words sound like a joke to you?"

"Are you the one who thinks this is a joke?"

At Mark's gesture, guns appeared one by one in the hands of his men. It was overkill for dealing with an individual. It would have been more natural to think they were gearing up for a territorial dispute.

"I don't know what you're relying on to barge in here without any protection, but this is the end for you."

"Come to think of it, you're my handler but you've never actually seen me in action, have you?"

"Is that important?"

"If you had seen me even once, you wouldn't have made this choice."

"Is this about a fixer's pride?"

He had survived in this industry for a long time. That alone earned Shin respect. But that was the extent of it.

Even if Shin were to show performance beyond imagination, the outcome wouldn't change. The numbers, and the weapons, proved that.

"Well then, try your best to make me regret it."

The moment Mark lowered his raised hand, gunfire erupted in the room. With no blind spots in the barrage, there was no space to dodge. Everyone believed without a doubt that Shin must have died.

But for Shin, death was the most worthless word.

The counterattack was predetermined the moment his head was pierced once.

Slash.

Something flashed, and one of the men collapsed. An unexpected turn of events. Despite their comrade falling, the others didn't hesitate and immediately continued their follow-up fire.

But it was a futile effort.

With one person gone, there was bound to be a hole in the encirclement.

In other words, it was the optimal situation for Shin to make his move.

The folding knife that cut through the air lodged precisely between the eyes of one of the men. The second casualty in the blink of an eye.

Bullets followed, determined not to allow any more mistakes, but Shin quickly ducked and sprinted. It took only 0.2 seconds to cross from one end of the room to the other.

In that time, he retrieved the folding knife and slashed the neck of a nearby man, all within 0.5 seconds.

A motion so concise, there wasn't even a sign of it coming.

The men convulsed and pulled their triggers at the sight of him slaughtering them like livestock, but not a single shot reached Shin.

As the number of opponents decreased, the trajectories he had to track also decreased.

If he could perceive it with his eyes, dodging bullets wasn't difficult.

This was possible because the act of shooting always involves the process of aiming. Aiming after firing would be nonsensical. No matter how fast one became, the process couldn't be reversed, so if he could catch the moment of aiming, he could easily predict the trajectory.

What followed was a matter of motor skills.

It wasn't an innate ability. It was the result of purely acquired learning. Dying a few times made it impossible not to learn.

An experience only Shin could gain.

As Shin mowed down the men like straw while darting around the room, a large shadow loomed over him. It was Mark, who had been observing the situation until now.

Like performing a trick, Shin flicked his ankle to raise a fallen gun to his shoulder, grabbed it, and pulled the trigger.

But Mark simply raised his right arm to nullify the flawless burst of fire. No, he went further and firmly grasped Shin's hand along with the gun.

The two were now close enough to feel each other's breath.

Mark looked down at Shin and smiled coldly.

"Have you heard about my prosthetic arm?"

In an instant, 2,650 kilograms of grip strength.

It was no different from the jaws of a Nile crocodile. Once caught, it could crush even a skull. This was violence not normally permitted to humans, but for Mark, it was just another day.

"Now, it's time for punishment."

Crack.

The gun shattered, and bones dislocated.

After a chilling sound of rupture, what flowed beneath was thick blood.

Right now, the prosthetic arm had become a compressor, perfectly crushing its target. The transition from living to dead was instantaneous.

But not even a groan escaped Shin's lips. Mark sneered at the strangely impassive reaction.

"Are you trying to show some kind of integrity?"

"No, I just thought this would be more comfortable."

As he said this, Shin raised his left fist. Guessing where it was aimed, Mark inadvertently let out a dumbfounded sound.

"You can't be serious?"

It was just a human arm made of flesh and blood. It couldn't possibly match an arm made of steel and wires. But Shin betrayed that expectation spectacularly.

Crunch.

He struck the prosthetic arm with inhuman strength.

Mark felt a chill run down his spine at the tingling sensation that hit his nervous system. As far as he knew, Shin was a natural. There was no information about him having any related implants.

He might have undergone surgery in secret, but even that couldn't explain this level of output.

If anything was possible, it would be—

"Genetic manipulation?"

Come to think of it, his agelessness could be explained along the same lines. It wouldn't be strange for an heir of a Megacorp or a comparable power.

But there was a contradiction.

If he was such an important figure, he wouldn't be chased around like this. Moreover, Shin didn't even have a device. It meant his status was at the very bottom.

In his shock, he had forgotten, but Shin didn't even have the characteristic scent.

It was neither this nor that.

What did this mean?

Before his mind could come up with an answer, his instincts understood first.

He'd never heard of such a type existing in the world, it was truly unbelievable, but—

"You were born with all of this...?"

"That's why I told you, unnecessary curiosity hastens death."

For Mark, who had finally crossed the last line, there was only one thing Shin could do.

"Everything you've built here will disappear."

Crack.

As the prosthetic arm was forcibly torn off, Mark collapsed in pain. Still, not losing hope, he grabbed the gun at his feet and pulled the trigger.

Bang, bang, bang!

Despite three bullets hitting him between the eyes, Shin didn't stop. No, he didn't die.

"What the—"

Just a moment ago, he thought he could crush him, he was sure of it—

"I've died once, so now it's your turn to die once."

Now, he looked like nothing but a monster.